


Thy Will Be Done

by influorescence



Category: The Locked Tomb Trilogy | Gideon the Ninth Series - Tamsyn Muir
Genre: Cunnilingus, Dom/sub Undertones, F/F, First Time, GtN spoilers?, Light Dom/sub, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:47:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27433789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/influorescence/pseuds/influorescence
Summary: One sunny day at Canaan House, Gideon attends to Dulcinea's whims.
Relationships: Gideon Nav/Dulcinea Septimus
Comments: 11
Kudos: 41





	Thy Will Be Done

Dulcinea's eyes on Gideon are the blue of the waves lapping far below when Dulcinea lays a hand deliberately on Gideon's bicep. Gideon feels her heart stutter in her chest, still hovering awkwardly over Dulcinea after placing her carefully in the lounge chair. Dulcinea runs her fingers slowly down her arm. Goosebumps rise in their wake.

"You haven't been touched, really, have you, Gideon the Ninth?" says Dulcinea. Underneath Gideon, she is a vision, confusing and forbidden, translucent skin and fragile limbs and chestnut-colored curls that shimmer in the First House sunlight and cascade over the delicate peaks of her shoulders. Her eyelashes are impossibly long, her eyes huge. Gideon thinks dully that the blue-green veins of her wrist match the aqua-colored frills of her thin dress.

Gideon has not been touched, not in the way Dulcinea seems to be implying, nor, for that matter, very much at all. When would she have been? Her skirmishes with Harrow were violent, detached clashes of sword on bone; when she trained with Aiglamene and Crux, they barked their commands from a distance. Here at Canaan House, the other houses give the silent, black-shrouded cav of the Ninth a wide berth. She has touched Dulcinea with purpose, carrying her from one chair to another, brushing against her to adjust her pillows, but this... caress. Well. It is a first.

As usual, Dulcinea appears unperturbed by her silence. No doubt the mute, frozen shock, even from behind heavy paint and reflective lenses, is answer enough. Dulcinea rubs her thumb down the rise of Gideon's bicep again. Gideon shivers a little, involuntarily. There's a curious quirk to the pale pink of Dulcinea's mouth.

"Would you like to be?" Dulcinea tips her face up to Gideon, who realizes with a start that she is waiting for an answer.

Gideon opens her mouth a little, then closes it. Her heart is leaping in her chest and in her clenched fists when she leans in, just a little.

It's answer enough. Dulcinea cranes her neck up and her lips are warm and soft on Gideon's. A little sound tears itself free of Gideon's throat and she kisses back, chasing the soft movement of Dulcinea's lips against hers and the fluttery breath on her face. Gideon braces her hands on the arms of the chair, arched over Dulcinea, but Dulcinea wraps her arms around her shoulders and places a firm hand at the back of her head, and it's as if Dulcinea is looming over her instead.

Already, Dulcinea's breath is labored. A little niggle of worry nudges at the back of Gideon's mind, drowned out by the powerful rush of want. Gideon presses closer, raising a hand to cup her neck and deepening the kiss. She can feel Dulcinea smiling against her, and then there is the shocking, hot glance of a tongue against her lips. Her breath rushes out of her lungs in a huff. Dulcinea pulls her down and she has to scramble to catch herself before she falls on her. Their lips break apart, and Gideon's knees land on either side of Dulcinea's body to straddle her hips. Dulcinea's eyes are unreadable, but there is warmth in her smile, a light flush on her cheeks. The heat in Gideon's belly grows, and she leans down to shove their mouths together again. Her tongue comes out to play against Dulcinea's.

It's electric, it's sparks running through her veins. Gideon strokes her hands down the slim lines of Dulcinea's arms and tentatively over the smooth fabric on her sides. Dulcinea's hands come up to cup her face, her lips and tongue sure against Gideon's. Somehow, Gideon gets the feeling that she is being teased. She doesn't care.

It is Dulcinea who pulls back first, wiping her lips on her hand. There are smears of Gideon's paint on her mouth and they are both breathing fast. Gideon is too warm in her thick Ninth robes.

"Much as I do enjoy the ambiance of the ocean," says Dulcinea breathily, "perhaps we should move this somewhere a bit more... private." At Gideon's hesitation, Dulcinea quirks a smile. Again, there is the curious light in her fathomless eyes. "Would you care to escort me to my rooms?”

This, at least, Gideon knows how to do. Ever so carefully, she slides one hand under Dulcinea's back and another under her knees, and sweeps her, princess-like, into her arms. She weighs almost nothing, as insubstantial as the gauzy layers of her dress spilling over her legs.

On Dulcinea's instruction, Gideon carries her through the damp-smelling halls of Canaan House, taking one unfamiliar turn, then another. Finally, they stop in front of a door in a wing of the house Gideon has not explored. She has a fleeting moment to wonder about Protesilaus the Seventh, but then the door swings open, and no one is there.

The Seventh's rooms are high above the water, bright, with sunlight streaming through tall windows to illuminate lazy swirls of dust. The air, slightly musty and smelling of old things, is distinctly less dank than in the Ninth quarters. Gideon sets Dulcinea gently down on the sprawling bed and pauses, uncertain. Dulcinea loops a bony arm around the back of her neck and draws her into a kiss that goes on and on, not letting up until they are both breathing hard once more.

"Undress me," Dulcinea breathes against Gideon's lips. She allows Gideon, fingers trembling, to reach for the hem of her airy dress and slip it carefully up, over narrow hips and concave stomach, over the prominent ribs and small, pert breasts, and finally over her head. Gideon drops it to the side and Dulcinea reaches for her arms, strokes her fingers down them, guides Gideon's hands to the flimsy scrap of fabric at her hips. Gideon finds she cannot look anywhere other than Dulcinea's face. She pulls the undergarment down her long, frail legs and steps back to gaze at Dulcinea, reclining now on the bed: an endless, sun-dappled expanse of pale skin over bluish veins, rosy nipples, a dusting of dark hair trailing down, down... There is a faint, wet sheen between her legs.

"Come here," says Dulcinea. Gideon goes.

She allows her robes to be unclasped and to slither off her body to puddle at her feet. Off comes the top, with its many buttons; the trousers; the socks and heavy boots. Her face is hot as Dulcinea unlaces her supportive chest garment and her breasts spring free—Dulcinea pulls her undergarment down—and she is exposed, at Dulcinea's mercy.

Dulcinea looks ravenously. Her eyes are dark. Her eyes roam over Gideon's face, her breasts, the lines of her muscles, her strong legs that feel quivery with nerves. Dulcinea meets Gideon's eyes as she shifts up the bed, and Gideon follows, drawn like a magnet, to kneel over her. Her ringlets fan out like rays of light on the pillow. Her eyes burn into Gideon's under heavy lids, her eyelashes like delicate wings as she blinks up at Gideon.

"Touch me," Dulcinea says, in the barest whisper. Gideon does.

She feels up Dulcinea's sides, slowly, feeling her arch in anticipation. She spreads her hands to cover Dulcinea's breasts, and brushes her thumbs over the pink nipples. Dulcinea huffs out a breath, so Gideon does it again. Dulcinea lets out a little moan, and it sets Gideon's blood aflame. She touches her again, and again, rubbing in circles, feeling Dulcinea squirm beneath her hands, bending down to capture Dulcinea's noises with her mouth.

It's not enough. Gideon mouths her way down her jaw and neck, wanting to taste and suck, and Dulcinea tangles a hand in her short hair and fists it. Gideon groans at the pleasure-pain of it, biting down on the place where Dulcinea's neck meets shoulder. Dulcinea lets out a breathless giggle and then her other fine-boned hand is feeling its way down Gideon's neck and collarbone, down to her heavy breasts, where she tweaks a nipple mercilessly. Gideon drops her head to the pillow beside her with a gasp, feeling the jolt all the way down between her legs. The hand in Gideon's hair releases her, pets her as if calming a spooked animal. 

"There, there," coos Dulcinea. She soothes over the nipple with the pad of her thumb, and Gideon pants, pushing onto her elbows and ducking to mouth at the curve of Dulcinea's breast. Dulcinea gives a little squeak of delight. Her chest heaves and she pushes, demanding, into Gideon's face. Gideon licks over the peak of the nipple, gently at first, then firmly, and sucks it in. With her hand, she plays with Dulcinea's other breast. Dulcinea's hips are rocking against Gideon now, distracting. Dulcinea's hand in her hair tugs, and Gideon is being guided down—down—

Dulcinea's scent is musky and mouthwatering. Her folds are flushed almost red and dripping wet, the hair clumping together. Gideon's mind is a senseless swirl of _want_ and _hot_ and _need_ as she brings her mouth to tease gently at the crease between crotch and thigh. The tender insides of Dulcinea's white thighs are soft beneath the calluses of her hands, and she can't resist lowering her head to suck and tongue at the delicate skin. Dulcinea groans gently. Her other hand comes down to weave into Gideon's hair, and the pull of it makes her nip at Dulcinea. The thighs close in on either side of Gideon's head, beckoning, and she obliges, kissing her way up until her nose brushes the coarse hair between Dulcinea's legs. A bead of moisture slips out and Gideon instinctually sticks out her tongue to catch it. The taste of it is tantalizing and Gideon licks at the wetness around Dulcinea's entrance, wanting more. 

Dulcinea's legs are thrown over Gideon's shoulders, squeezing her head. Her hips push into her face. Gideon prods her tongue between the folds and licks up, finding her swollen clit, and Dulcinea cries out, spasming, fingers twisting painfully in Gideon's hair. Gideon swipes at the engorged nub again, and Dulcinea shouts and thrusts into her mouth, forcing Gideon's tongue against her pulsing clit. Gideon's heart pounds in her throat. Dulcinea starts to ride Gideon's tongue and Gideon feels used, feels needed, presses two fingertips to Dulcinea's slippery entrance and forces them in. Dulcinea is searing hot inside, wet and tight and clenching around the insistent thrust of Gideon's fingers. Her breaths come in high-pitched whimpers. Gideon feels a hand leave her hair, and when she looks up through her lashes, Dulcinea is groping at the swells of her own breasts, playing with her nipples, slipping her fingers into her own needy mouth. All coherent thought leaves Gideon's brain, and she closes her lips on Dulcinea's mound, presses her tongue against her hard, and sucks. 

Dulcinea comes with a long, high-pitched moan. She throws her head back and arches off the bed. The violent shudder of her hips against Gideon's face is almost painful, and Gideon doesn't care at all. Her insides tighten like a vice around Gideon's fingers, soaking them and dripping down her hand. 

Gideon's jaw is sore as Dulcinea shudders and stills. Gideon feels like she's on a razor's edge, aching for release. When she releases Dulcinea with a _pop,_ Dulcinea reaches for her face with shivering hands and pulls her up to kiss her. Their tongues mash together and Dulcinea makes a muffled little moan at the taste of herself in Gideon's mouth. The buzz of every inch of Dulcinea's body on Gideon is almost unbearable.

In one smooth motion, before Gideon realizes what she's doing, Dulcinea slips a hand down Gideon's front and gives a teasing flick to Gideon's clit. Gideon gasps into her mouth, light-headed. She feels herself clench painfully on nothing. Dulcinea dips just barely into Gideon's slit and drags the wetness up to play with Gideon's clit. Her finger swirls in light circles and Gideon needs more, more—

Dulcinea slips inside Gideon and curls her fingers once, twice, beckoning. _Come, Gideon._ Gideon chokes, unable to get enough air, and comes hard. It courses through her like magma and she's dimly aware that she's shouting, riding the waves of pleasure like she's clinging to life. All senses turn to a buzzing numbness. She floats, unable to see or hear.

She gradually comes down to the gentle press of kisses to her face—forehead, brow, cheeks, nose, just the barest brush of lips. At some point, Dulcinea must have rolled her off, because Gideon is a dead weight on the bed beside her, skin radiating heat and sweating into the sheets. Dulcinea's fingers stroke gently through her damp hair. Gideon blinks, exhausted, at Dulcinea.

There it is again, the barest hint of that enigmatic smile. Gideon's head is still buzzing. She feels heavy and boneless and not at all ready to confront the shadow of confusion at the back of her mind. Dulcinea nuzzles at her jaw and Gideon pushes the thought out of her head, letting her eyelids close and feeling her consciousness slip away.

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> These books clenched their fingers around my heart and won't let go. Had to spew the feelings out somewhere; expect more where that came from. 
> 
> There was a serious dearth of Dulcinea/Gideon fic. Babby's first E-rated, I tried and therefore no one can judge me


End file.
